Famous quotes containing the words square, city, york, west, washington, street, fourth and/or subway:
“Rationalists, wearing square hats,
Think, in square rooms,
Looking at the floor,
Looking at the ceiling.
They confine themselves
To right-angled triangles.”
—Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)
“New York has never learnt the art of growing old by playing on all its pasts. Its present invents itself, from hour to hour, in the act of throwing away its previous accomplishments and challenging the future. A city composed of paroxysmal places in monumental reliefs.”
—Michel de Certeau (1925–1986)
“And you’re too fired up to go to sleep, you sit at the kitchen table. It’s really late, it’s really quiet, you’re tired. Don’t wanna go to bed, though. Going to bed means this was the day. This Feb. 12, this Aug. 3, this Nov. 20 is over and you’re tired and you made some money but it didn’t happen, nothing happened. You got through it and a whole day of your life is over. And all it is—is time to go to bed.”
—Claudia Shear, U.S. author. New York Times, p. A21 (September 29, 1993)
“I cannot think that espionage can be recommended as a technique for building an impressive civilisation. It’s a lout’s game.”
—Rebecca West (1892–1983)
“I don’t know a great deal about life in Washington for women—I spent a summer there once working in the White House, and my main memories of the experience have to do with a very bad permanent wave I have always been convinced kept me from having a meaningful relationship with President Kennedy ...”
—Nora Ephron (b. 1941)
“Think of admitting the details of a single case of the criminal court into our thoughts, to stalk profanely through their very sanctum sanctorum for an hour, ay, for many hours! to make a very barroom of the mind’s inmost apartment, as if for so long the dust of the street had occupied us,—the very street itself, with all its travel, its bustle, and filth, had passed through our thoughts’ shrine! Would it not be an intellectual and moral suicide?”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“The fourth day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Four colly birds,”
—Unknown. The Twelve Days of Christmas (l. 13–15)
“I leave you, home,
when I’m ripped from the doorstep
by commerce or fate. Then I submit
to the awful subway of the world....”
—Anne Sexton (1928–1974)